At sixes and sevens
by Yesterday's dreams
Summary: At Darlington Hall important events were taking place that evening as Miss Kenton, the housekeeper, and Mr Stevens, the butler, can attest to. Very important events, indeed.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story and I do not make any money. It's written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

* * *

**At sixes and sevens**

With the door slammed shut, Stevens got quickly ahead of Miss Kenton. She couldn't see his face, though there was something very peculiar about his movements as if he were agitated or displeased, or even angry.

What a ludicrous thought to flash through her mind; Mr Stevens did not get angry or agitated simply because it struck his fancy. She was used to dealing with Stevens' subtle hints of displeasure without any difficulty, and on a daily basis no less, but he rarely gave away more than that. Before she had the opportunity to ponder on how strange and confusing the whole evening had been, Stevens said:

"I trust you had a pleasant evening."

Her doubts vanished; he was displeased very much, indeed, and his tone was biting. Miss Kenton stood motionless by the door and watched how Stevens moved down the hall. She was perplexed and at loss for words. Over the long years they had been working together, she tried very hard to rouse Stevens and make him do something; to show anything else than the flawless professional, for Miss Kenton had been curious what was hidden under the surface. However, she always needed to needle him if she wanted a reaction – now he was irritated without her having a hand in it.

Suddenly he stopped and turned around.

"Well? Did you have a pleasant evening?" He insisted in getting an answer. The anger in his voice was apparent and something else was seeping through as well. It was something Miss Kenton was sure he would not want her to see, something that, perhaps, could change the course of certain events. God, how she wished it could, how she wished it _would_; regardless of it, then and there she decided that this is his last chance and her last stand. Bracing herself, she prickly said:

"Yes, thank you."

"Good."

Mr. Stevens did not look like he thought it was good, quite the opposite. He also did not look like he was going to say more on that matter. He looked like a man who was trying to escape but Miss Kenton was determined not to let him, not this time.

She was more than tired of this tug of war. Day after day, year after year, she fought him. They fought even when they were sitting in her parlour and sipping hot cocoa after a tiring day. Some part of her was always challenging some part of him on much a deeper, personal level. In the beginning of their acquaintance they bickered over little things like the displaced figurine of a Chinaman, later seriously argued over issues concerning staff of the house, but every single time they strayed into those forbidden alluring waters, almost crossed the border from professionalism to familiarity –God forbid intimacy!– Miss Kenton was halted by a solid barrier of polite propriety. Stevens was unreachable and safely guarded behind his walls of cold reserve and dignity.

Although, she did imagine few times that those fortifications could be pulled down, that she could get through. Just only hours ago, there was a moment when he almost slipped when Miss Kenton could almost congratulate herself on victory. _Almost_.

* * *

Miss Kenton was pensively sitting in her parlour when Mr Stevens, the very object of her thoughts himself, came in informing her about the unexpected arrival of Mr. Cardinal, who would need to have his usual room prepared for the night. She assured him that she would see to it before she left.

She's leaving for the evening, indeed. It was Thursday after all; her day off.

Mr Stevens looked a bit unhappy about it, but any indication of his displeasure disappeared quickly. It did not disappear quickly enough, though, because Miss Kenton noticed.

She should tell him while his armour was cracked a little. She knew there wouldn't be any other opportunity such as this one. If he… at least a bit… Yes, she decided she should tell him before leaving, so the matter would be settled and her conscience clear of any doubts that had been plaguing her for some time now.

"Mr Stevens."

Miss Kenton watched as he impatiently stopped and turned, looking at her.

"Yes?" He didn't want to be rude, of course, but he had his duties and needed to be going.

"I have something to tell you. My friend… The man I'm meeting, Mr. Benn."

"Mr. Benn. Of course. Yes."

Mr Stevens was uncomfortable; he obviously wanted to be somewhere else and _not_ discussing Mr Benn.

"He has asked me to marry him."

He nodded subconsciously and then the full meaning hit him. He stood still, his jaw dropped, expression slacked, and it appeared that the only thing Mr Stevens was capable of doing was staring at her in disbelief.

It was a start for which Miss Kenton hadn't even hoped. Maybe, just maybe… She searched for the next words very carefully.

"I am thinking about it."

A second passed and then the blank expression of shock on Mr Stevens' face was gone. Instead there was something very much resembling hurt in his eyes. Was he truly hurting? Had she managed to touch him? If it was so, let him say _something_.

"I see," he breathed out softly.

"He's moving to the West Country next month."

"Hmm." Mr Stevens closed his mouth and continued gazing at her. Miss Kenton was not sure he saw her even though his eyes never left hers. She was not even sure he heard or understood the words.

"I'm still thinking about it."

No reaction, no reaction at all.

"I thought you should be informed of the situation."

He bent his head a little, and for a second she hoped that this was her victory, that she brought the walls down and would see him without any masks. But politeness and Mr Stevens' sense of dignity prevailed once again. Stubborn evasive man!

"Yes, thank you," he smiled a little strained smile. "That's most kind of you."

Looking away, he obviously thought hard about what to say next. Miss Kenton waited, feeling defeated and yet still hopeful. Just for once, only once, could he forget about propriety? Could he not say what she wanted to hear and what his gaze indicated just moments ago?

"Well… I trust you'll have a most pleasant evening, Miss Kenton." Now his smile resembled a painful grimace. "Thank you."

And he ran, leaving Miss Kenton paralyzed for many minutes, her mind numb and her heart breaking once again for all the opportunities gained and lost. She was so close, _so close_.

* * *

"Would you like to know what took place?"

The question halted his progress and Mr Stevens sighed deeply, looking for a second weary of the conversation. "I have to return upstairs. There are important events taking place tonight."

"When are there not?"Miss Kenton determinedly followed him around the corner and called to his retreating back: "I accepted his proposal!"

Mr Stevens turned to face her, annoyed; both his left hand and jaw clenching and unclenching. He asked politely: "Miss Kenton?" but it gave off the impression of an impatient 'What now?'

"I accepted Mr. Benn's proposal of marriage."

"My congratulations." Stevens bowed a little and wanted to continue walking.

"I am prepared to serve out my notice."

He couldn't just leave, not again! Did he not understand that after tonight, it would be too late? Did he not care at all that she is planning to leave the house forever? Miss Kenton believed him to care, at least fractionally, but she needed him to show it. She could not bring herself to think that all these years meant nothing to Mr Stevens while they were so important to her.

"But if you'd release me earlier, I'd be grateful."

It was a strange night, indeed, with Stevens irritated and her more than desperate for any sign of any affection. She gave up the idea of _love_ sometime between the two past heartbeats during which he simply looked at her. Her soul started to hurt. It was a deep piercing ache.

"Mr. Benn is planning to leave for the West Country in two weeks."

Two weeks and she would be gone… and Mr Stevens wouldn't care at all. He was so practical, so steady; by that time he would have her replacement hired, she had no doubt.

"I'll do my best." His face was set in stone. "Now, please excuse me."

Her vision filled with red from her bleeding soul.

"Mr Stevens!"

"Miss Kenton?"

He turned to her again and if she were not preoccupied with her own feelings, mostly of betrayal and anger, she could have noticed how sorrowful and devoid of life his eyes looked. But she was oblivious to his emotions just as Mr Stevens often had been to hers in the years passed.

"Am I to take that after all the years I have been here, you have nothing else to say to me?"

"You have my warmest congratulations," he said in a strained voice, almost choking with anguish filling his empty gaze. He smiled painfully.

"Did you know you've been a very important figure for Mr. Benn and me?"

Miss Kenton did not see the impact of her words. For this moment only, she did not care. Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned, and scorned she was. He had hurt her, she wanted to hurt him.

"Oh, in what way?"

"I tell him all sorts of things about you. I tell him stories about you. About your habits. About your mannerisms. He finds it very funny, especially when I show him how…"

Mr Stevens stood and gazed at her, simply that, and nothing more. He was not an expressive man, which was very obvious for everyone who had ever met him. His face did not give away much on most occasions… but now and then, one could see him expressing amusement or contentment by a lazy smile… and now, one could see him hurting to the core.

"…you pinch your nose when you put pepper on your food. That always has us in stitches."

"Does it, indeed?" He looked down and smiled faintly, chuckled even. "Well, please…" His voice became hoarse. "Excuse me, Miss Kenton. Good night."

Mr Stevens left. Miss Kenton stayed in the hall, silent and alone.

* * *

The exchange Mr Stevens had with Mr Cardinal later that night stayed in his thoughts even after he'd left the gentleman's presence. To Stevens' discomfort, they had been discussing Lord Darlington's guests whose meeting had been taking place in the library. Stevens was feeling tired and weary, weighted by the evening's happenings, and these emotions magnified every time he remembered the exact words young Mr Cardinal had said towards the end of his heated disapproving lament of the political inclinations that his godfather had.

_"__I care about him deeply, and I know you do too."_

Yes, Mr Stevens did care about his employer. Yet, during those uncomfortable minutes with Mr Cardinal, Lord Darlington had been replaced by another face in front of Stevens' inner eye.

He cared deeply. Deeply.

_"__Then aren't you desperate to see him make this mistake?"_

He was very desperate. Very.

_"__He's being tricked! Don't you see?"_

He did see, indeed. Even though he felt that she was being tricked and disapproved wholeheartedly, Mr Stevens was certain there was nothing to be done, nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable departure of his most competent subordinate.

Mr Cardinal's probing echoed within his mind and his own silent answers were confusing him. What a mess his thoughts and feelings were! He didn't know what to make of it for he didn't understand his own rising anger at the very idea of Miss Kenton becoming Mrs Benn. He must control these impulses and he must come to terms with her decision. It was not his place to dictate her life. He was the butler of the house, she was his housekeeper, and their relationship was strictly professional. Nothing more.

Stevens rubbed his face again; something was rather uncomfortably stinging in his eyes and he was annoyed by the way his thoughts kept coming back to her. He had to concentrate on the task ahead which meant getting wine for the gentlemen upstairs.

In this state of utter bewilderment and irrational exasperation, he encountered Miss Kenton again.

He stamped down the stairs, passed her rooms and bent down to unlock the door leading into the wine cellar. She must have heard him – when he was opening it, her soft troubled voice reached him:

"Mr Stevens?"

He straightened up, slammed the door shut and turned. Truth to be told, Miss Kenton was the last person he wished to see right now, however he forced himself to smile politely.

"Yes?"

"You mustn't take anything I said to heart." She swallowed. "I was very foolish a little while ago."

Stevens watched her face and then he nodded. She looked like she had spent the past hour or so worrying about their mutually unpleasant exchange of unpleasant news. So he lied, for her sake, because he didn't wish to see her in distress. It made him feel something he was not willing to name, but disliked to feel nevertheless.

"Miss Kenton, I haven't taken anything you said to heart. In fact, I can hardly recall anything you did say."

"I was just being very foolish." Her voice shook a little and Stevens came to the conclusion that he was not convincing enough. She knew him rather well; better than anyone in the house, better than anyone _alive_, actually, so there was no point in prolonging this conversation any more than necessary.

"I simply haven't time to stand here with you, engaging in idle talk." Stevens sighed heavily. He was tired, wasn't she? "I suggest you go to bed now. Good night."

Miss Kenton was swallowed by the shadows of her doorframe without answering him. Her expression, so very forlorn and haunted, stirred Stevens' ire again while he was descending the stairs in the cellar. This time, he could pinpoint the source of his irritation without any difficulty – he was angry with _himself_. He even half turned with the intention to head back, but stopped himself in time.

He had nothing to say to Miss Kenton. If she wanted to marry Mr Benn, Stevens would offer once again his sincerest congratulations and he would be content to see her leaving with the reassuring knowledge that she was embarking on a new life and starting family with Mr Benn. It was what was expected of him; he was not supposed to voice his own opinion on the matter. Yes, Stevens would wish happiness to them both…

"Oh, damn it!" The bottle of fine wine had slipped from his hands and glass shards laid at his feet. He overstepped the spilled wine. "Blast!"

Angrily, he returned for a new bottle and his thoughts strayed again.

_Mr Benn_. How he disliked the man. Stevens knew it was a bit irrational on his part, because Mr Benn hadn't done anything to earn such contempt, yet he could not help the hostility, dare he say so, he felt every time Mr Benn's name was mentioned by Miss Kenton.

He could remember quite clearly the not so distant evening when his distaste for Mr Benn took root and hadn't stopped growing ever since.

* * *

"Oh, Miss Kenton!" Mr Benn smiled brightly and leapt to his feet. Miss Kenton came into Stevens' office with her hands full and he took a step towards her.

"It's a fresh soda." She put the tray on the table. Her eyes first strayed to Mr Stevens and then turned to Mr Benn and she smiled. He handed her the empty bottle and her smile got bigger.

"Thank you, Mr Benn."

"Would you be joining us?"

"Thank you, but it's very late and I have an early start."

Stevens hadn't been listening to their exchange much and he barely noticed how Mr Benn was looking at Miss Kenton's retreating figure… because Stevens was too busy watching her walk away himself. His thoughts were very appreciative of the gesture; how very kind of her. He did not pay much attention to Mr Benn's following words either:

"Good-looking woman."

"Hmm." Stevens hummed into his glass, his gaze fixed to the spot where Miss Kenton disappeared. Part of him, which had been paying a bit of attention to Mr Benn, did agree.

"It was never the same after she left Stanton Lacey. I handed in my own notice six months later," continued Benn.

Yes, Stevens could imagine why Mr Benn had handed his own notice; a house without Miss Kenton must have been at sixes and sevens after her departure. What would he would do if she was to leave? It was a truly disturbing thought and he knew the answer far too well.

"I'd be lost without her," Stevens said truthfully then and immediately hurried to explain: "A first-rate housekeeper is essential in a house like this, where great affairs are decided between these walls."

Mr Benn gave him a suspicious, even challenging look – and he returned it. For a few moments they watched each other distrustfully and in that instance, Mr Stevens started to dislike Mr Benn.

* * *

Regardless of how much noise Stevens made by his stamping, he heard something the very moment he closed the cellar door. Bottle of wine securely in his grasp, he slipped the keys into his pocket and tiptoed to Miss Kenton's parlour. In front of her door he stopped and listened.

She was sobbing. In the sudden silence he could hear it clearly.

Stevens shifted his weight and looked down at the dusty bottle in his left hand. He should be getting upstairs… but he could not bring himself to do it. With his free hand he reached for the handle and with great care opened the door, letting himself in.

The room was dark and in its centre was the source of the sobbing. With every step he took towards her he felt more and more troubled himself. Miss Kenton was a sorry sight. She knelt on the floor hunched over and with face buried in her hands. The sound of her crying pierced through him. He couldn't bear to see her like this and he couldn't stand to listen to it.

Mr Stevens stopped right in front of her.

"Miss Kenton?"

Finally she noticed him and looked up slowly. Her hair was tussled and her eyes red and puffy, on her cheeks were traces of tears she was trying to wipe off – without much success. In her gaze was something which bothered him greatly.

"Yes, Mr Stevens?" She looked away and then back at him.

He felt very uncomfortable. Miss Kenton was kneeling at his feet and her eyes were _begging_ him... For what? He didn't know, but he wanted to give it to her; anything to make her stop crying, to take away that agonized look. He wished to never see her in this state again, the sight was squeezing him inside and it was painful to breathe. Somewhere in his core, something stirred to life as it had done once or twice.

"I've wanted to tell you…"

_No_. He would not finish the sentence. Of course, it was not his place to entertain such thoughts, it was not his place to offer solace, he was not Mr Benn and whatever Miss Kenton was begging for, he couldn't give it to her. He could only try to distract her from her pain. He found that work always had this effect on him, so he searched his mind for anything he could mention.

"It's the small alcove outside the breakfast room."

Miss Kenton sharply inhaled, disbelieving.

"It's the new girl, of course, but I find it has not been dusted in some time."

Her lips quivered and the open, unfathomably hopeful expression closed. Steel entered her eyes and voice: "I'll see to it."

Stevens nodded to himself. That was much, much better. She stopped crying, which was good… and yet he almost immediately regretted his words. Why, he didn't know. It felt wrong. He still found it hard to breathe and the pressure inside him didn't abate.

"Thank you. I knew you would have wanted to be informed," he told her and turned around. He walked out of her rooms and when he was closing the door behind him, he heard that the sobbing started anew.

Mr Stevens stood outside of Miss Kenton's door another few moments, with his free hand fisted and brows furrowed. She had him trapped on the spot, as she had had him before. He was very confused and he didn't understand why he could not move, why he didn't want to.

In the end, though, he did. Never mind he felt like his heart was being crushed.

* * *

The next morning found the house in a strange sort of suspense. Mr Cardinal left at the break of dawn and Lord Darlington's guests hadn't even stayed the rest of the night, though the staffs were more interested in the affairs of their butler and everyone kept guessing what had happened during the night to leave him in such temper.

To put it simply, Mr Stevens was in a foul mood and he didn't even try to disguise it. He kept stamping along the corridors and slamming the doors, he gave curt orders in an irritated voice and hadn't one bit of patience for anything at all. The silver was not polished enough. The table was set incorrectly. The floors were dirtied.

He was in the kitchen and had just picked up a tray he wished to inspect when the housekeeper walked in with a basket full of flowers and two vases resting on the top of it. He recognized them at once; the larger one made of glass found its way into his office every morning while the tall brown one had its place on Miss Kenton's desk.

"Mr Stevens, good morning." She was very polite and very cold as she passed him without even glancing at him. Her eyes were red and voice hoarse.

"Good morning, Miss Kenton." His answer was strained and he watched her move stiffly around the kitchen. She carefully selected her flowers and put them into her vase, filling it with water. The rest she put back into the basket and with her hands full, she moved towards her office. The second vase was left standing on the desk.

When she was out of sight, Mr Stevens slammed the tray down and gazed at the offending piece of glass. As long as the flowers were in bloom, the butler always got fresh bunch of them every day… everyone knew of this habit and nobody commented. Nobody of the staff dared to look his way. The tension was becoming uncomfortable.

Mr Stevens inspected all the trays which were in use – all of them were unsatisfactorily cleaned, of course – and after he was finished, he picked up the vase and followed in Miss Kenton's trail with a very purposeful face.

He knocked once.

"Come in." She was sitting at her desk, turning to see who was coming. When she saw it was him, she looked away and slowly put down several flowers in her hands. He noticed she had been playing with them, making a wreath most probably.

"Miss Kenton."

"Yes, Mr Stevens?"

"You have forgotten your vase, Miss Kenton," he said quietly and cautiously inched closer to her desk. He then placed the vase on it, feeling awkward. It was a strangely timid gesture from a man such as him.

"I have not."She briefly turned to him and then looked back at her desk. In the dim light of the rainy morning, she looked exhausted and there were deep lines of distress around her eyes. She looked resigned.

Stevens was certain that he was intruding. His mind was urging him to apologize and leave, yet his feet refused to move this time. He clasped his hands behind his back and thought for a second on what to say.

"Miss Kenton, this may come as a surprise to you, but I would be… most grateful if you would spare few minutes of your time and several of your flowers and make a bouquet to fill this glass."

"Mr Stevens, you have made it perfectly clear that you find bunches of flowers too distracting from work and disturbing the order of your tidy office."

"Yes, very distracting and very, very disturbing, indeed," he whispered and smiled a little. Then his eyes filled with emotions. "However I cannot imagine my office without their colour any more. It would be a sorry sight, wouldn't it?"

Miss Kenton slowly levelled her eyes at him. Stevens stood stock still and gave her a sad half-smile. In his gaze she saw her own reflection and behind it there was hidden something vulnerable.

"You want flowers in your office?" She swallowed and he nodded with great hesitancy as if he was not fully aware of what he was doing. "It would disturb you, invade your space. You want it?"

He nodded again, more sure of himself. Were they thinking along the same lines? Were they remembering one particular occurrence which had led them to this day, this moment?

* * *

Mr Stevens was dozing in his office, seated in an armchair near the fireplace with a book on his knee when Miss Kenton walked in. He woke up at the sound of her footsteps and looked drowsily at her.

"Flowers," she explained, amused, and put a fresh vase of roses on his desk.

"Hmm?" Mr Stevens rubbed his face.

"Flowers," she repeated and started to sift through them, one eye on Stevens. "You're reading. It's very dim. Can you see?"

"Yes, thank you."

He finally looked fully awake and watched her hands. Miss Kenton had a habit of appearing in those moments Mr Stevens was least expecting her to. Everything she did, come to think of it, was done with only one sole purpose – to _annoy_ him somehow, to disturb his balance. That's why she began bringing him flowers in the first place; she insisted on brightening his office in spite of his wish not to do so. After some time he conceded defeat and let her do as she pleased.

When her gaze shifted to him again, he looked away.

"What are you reading?"

Stevens looked at his left hand, came to the decision not to share the title, and promptly answered: "A book."

"Yes, but what sort of book?" Miss Kenton chuckled.

"It's a book, Miss Kenton. A book."

She smiled amusedly and stepped closer to the armchair, reaching for the book. Stevens with half annoyed expression let his hand fall to the side and safely out of her reach.

"What's the book? "

He didn't answer; instead he got up and moved behind his desk, away from her. He certainly did not wish to let Miss Kenton, of all people, know what he was reading.

"Are you shy about your book?" she teased.

"No."

"What is it?" Now she sounded like a curious child. Stevens involuntarily made the situation for himself worse and he recognized it. He presented her with a challenge. A tired sigh escaped him and he leaned on a cupboard. She followed him and blocked his exist. Stevens in his attempt to escape the uncomfortable situation backed himself into a corner. Literally.

"Is it racy?" She was being mischievous now and smiled broadly.

"Racy?" He was shocked a little.

"Are you reading a racy book?" Miss Kenton winked.

"Do you think racy books are to be found in His Lordship's shelves?" He retorted dryly and smiled. For a moment he had thought she was being serious, but she was only teasing him. It was another of her habits that she unwaveringly inflicted upon his person on a daily basis and with great delight.

"How would I know? What is it?"

She stepped to him, reaching for the book again: "Let me see it. Let me see your book."

"Please leave me alone." Stevens clutched it to his chest and bowed his head, stepping back further.

"Why won't you show me your book?" Miss Kenton laughed and persistently followed.

"This is my private time. You're invading it."

"Is that so? I'm _invading_ your private time, am I?"

"Yes."

"What's in that book? Come on, let me see."

Mr Stevens had no more space behind him. He leaned on a tall cabinet now, right hand resting at the top of it, his eyes watching her. The nature of their banter changed, the atmosphere shifted and both of them, on some subconscious level, felt it.

"Or are you protecting me? Is that what you're doing? Would I be shocked? Would it ruin my character? Let me see it."

Her teasing smile disappeared and strange awareness came into her eyes. She stood very closely to him and her fingers, hesitatingly at first, started to pry the book out of his grasp.

Stevens brought his right hand up and supported his head, still watching her. He could not remember an occasion when they were so close to each other that he could touch her hair if he wanted to… Nor he could remember them ever touching, actually. He took great care to _never_ touch her. Although in the poorly lit office with smell of roses in the air, it was easy to surrender to the temptation and he started forgetting himself.

One by one, Miss Kenton was trying to loosen his grip. Then she looked up and met his gaze, they were sharing the same breath now, and in that moment Stevens finally gave up and let her have the book.

He almost ran his fingers through her hair while she was examining the title.

"Oh, dear. It's not scandalous at all. It's just a sentimental old love story."

Those words brought Mr Stevens back to reality and he took his book back.

"I read these books, any books, to develop my command and knowledge of the English language. I read to further my education, Miss Kenton." He explained and while he was talking, the remaining effects of the strange spell which took hold of him had been broken.

Miss Kenton was still looking at him, expecting and hopeful. He smiled faintly, ignoring her meaningful gaze. She was trying to convey a message and he deliberately chose to ignore it. The whole situation was improper and unbecoming their posts. He did not wish to give her any ideas.

"I really must ask you, please… not to disturb the few moments I have to myself."

Miss Kenton looked down at his hand, the one she had held gently just a moment ago, and then she turned, as if burnt. She didn't say anything, she didn't look at him, she simply left and Mr Stevens let her go.

* * *

Oh, Miss Kenton had a feeling that it was a wrong assumption. For her it all began much _earlier_, she thought. Maybe at the moment they had bickered for the first time? Mr Stevens certainly hadn't been used to getting contradicted by anyone on the staff and she had been used to speaking her mind freely. Or maybe it had started the night Mr Stevens Senior had passed away? Or had it been in one of those quiet evenings they had spent in each other's company?

It didn't matter, anyway.

She looked at Mr Stevens again. He shifted on his feet and she indicated him to sit down. He gracefully seated himself in his usual chair and remained silent, watching her with eyes troubled and stance unsure.

"Perhaps it is me who was being foolish yesterday."

Her eyebrows rose in disbelief, but she forbade herself to jump to conclusions. She busied her fidgety fingers with the wreath. Another disappointment could be very well fatal for her bleeding heart and bleeding it was, indeed.

"Why would you say something like this, Mr Stevens?"

He sighed deeply and rubbed his face wearily. "Have you slept well, Miss Kenton?"

"I can't say I have."

"I had the most peculiar dream," he said and waited till she looked at him. Miss Kenton was shocked then, for after all those years, she finally saw _him_. No wall. And what she saw made her breathless and teary.

In front of her was a very tired and very heartbroken man staring at her with expression of profound regret carved into every line of his face and with pain seeping through his eyes.

"I dreamt of the future, Miss Kenton, and I have to say I am not very happy about what I saw in mine. I dreamt of yours, too."

Her hands started shaking while he continued with solemn face and in grave voice:

"The rest of the night I spent awake, just thinking about yesterday's events. You have to trust me, Miss Kenton, that I sincerely wished you true happiness with Mr Benn. I wished it to you from the bottom of my heart. Please, do you believe me?"

Towards the end of his words he became distraught, urgency entered his voice.

"Yes, Mr Stevens, of course. I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

"Yes, thank you." He smiled bitterly and fell silent, his head was bent a little to the side and he was looking at her, though she was sure that he was not seeing her.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked softly.

"Hmm?" Stevens started and then chuckled hopelessly. "Ah, yes. Very well, I suppose I should say more on the matter seeing as I'm already here." He sighed again, giving the impression of someone utterly lost.

Miss Kenton was watching him with growing concern. She felt very tired, but Stevens looked as if he had suffered terrible shock and his being was not strong enough to overcome it. He was hurt, not physically, but on the inside. She was more than familiar with such feelings.

"Are you feeling well, Mr Stevens?"

"I would say yes, Miss Kenton, I should say yes, but the truth is… I am not well," he pronounced carefully in a hoarse voice. Something akin to failure flickered in his gaze. "I know it goes far beyond the bounds of decency and it is not something I have the slightest right to ask of you… It is not proper of me to have the audacity to… to have these… I am at loss for words, actually, please forgive me."

He grimaced and looked to the side, his eyes unnaturally bright.

"Mr Stevens, after all these years we have known each other, I assure you, you have every right to be frank and speak your mind freely," Miss Kenton said warily.

"Thank you. You have always been most kind to me, Miss Kenton, most kind."

He fell silent again and minutes passed. They were sitting there gazing at each other with sorrowful eyes and painfully polite smiles. Miss Kenton had lost the will to coax Mr Stevens into any sort of action, so she let him be. She tried hard not to read into his words too much instead and continued with her wreath.

"In my dream, which took place years after your departure and marriage, I found myself immersed in work. Work, work and more work only. There was nothing else I wished to do for there was nothing else I could do."

Stevens smiled at her with heart-breaking grief.

"You were expecting a grandchild and your life, while not particularly easy, was full." He choked and bent his head. "I am so very sorry, Miss Kenton, so very sorry."

"What for, Mr Stevens?" Her voice was close to breaking. She was unaware that she stood up and stepped to him. Her hand reached out, but stopped in mid-air. She dared not to touch him. He would object, surely.

"I made a mistake, grave mistake, terrible mistake… and there is no way to take back what transpired yesterday, or over the long years we have known each other. I've allowed you to mean something to me. It is a failure on my part, solely my fault."

Miss Kenton was shocked and speechless. Stevens after several beats of silence lifted his head and blinked, pained by the admission.

"What are you saying, Mr Stevens?" she whispered.

"I care about you, Miss Kenton."

"And why is it a mistake, pray tell?"

Stevens chuckled and choked and got to his feet, ready to flee again, yet he remained standing and looking at her."Why? Because you wish to marry Mr Benn and leave this house, Miss Kenton. That puts me into a very awkward situation as you can imagine."

She nodded even though she was not certain she did understand what he was exactly saying. He moved his jaw back and forth and cleared his throat before he continued in a subdued voice:

"I cannot just ask you to break off the engagement, can I? What sort of a man would that make me? And after yesterday's happenings I cannot stay silent, either. So I failed on more than one personal level, which is very displeasing to know."

"Are you displeased that you care about me?"Miss Kenton sharply asked and stepped back, turned around.

"I am displeased, because whatever I do now, it would cost me something."

"What do you mean?"

"I could ask you not to leave with Mr Benn for the West Country and in doing so I will lose my dignity… at least the rest of it. Such a question would be very improper to ask. You are engaged to that gentleman and you gave your word to him. It would put you in very uncomfortable position."

Stevens waited till she turned back to him.

"Or I could congratulate you once more and watch you depart from this house forever and in doing so I will maintain my dignity and restore our relations back to the previous professional level."

Miss Kenton started to cry again and Mr Stevens looked like he was dying inside. His face was smooth, almost expressionless, though in his gaze a storm of emotions was brewing.

In the moment it became obvious that he was torn and didn't know what to do. He hopelessly looked at her and Miss Kenton, unwilling to sacrifice her possible happiness, did know what the conclusion of this painful exchange should be. That was more than enough pain and hurt to last them for a lifetime.

She had her victory at last and great weight was lifted from her soul. She forcefully wiped off her tears and shook her head to clear it.

"And what would you do if I decided not to marry Mr Benn after all, Mr Stevens?"

He paused and bowed his head low. Several moments passed. When he straightened up again there was a small smile gracing his lips and he rubbed his eyes and face.

"Oh, well, Miss Kenton," said he and took a seat again, looking thoughtful. "I can quite imagine that I would inform you that my given name is James and inquire how you feel about the surname Stevens."

These words were said in the familiar dry tone he used when they were bantering. He gesticulated with his hand and added: "As you must surely remember from your own job interview, I find romances between unmarried employees of the staff distasteful and simply unacceptable."


End file.
